


Desperation of a Pathetic Kind

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Falling Skies
Genre: Episode: s05e06, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4493931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben and Cochise discuss Maggie's spike removal (because Ben needed to have that conversation, but he needed to have it with someone other than Maggie)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperation of a Pathetic Kind

Ben can feel it when Maggie starts her spike removal.  It makes the spikes in his spine start to curl a little tighter around him.  Like they feel like they’re in danger. 

It takes a second, but Ben realizes he’s gasping for breath and he decides to go find somewhere private to deal with this.  Those spikes are a part of him, even if they’re not his anymore, and he can feel them dying.  He knows that Maggie hates them, knows that she never wanted them, but it still hurts.

He waits until the shaking and tears have stopped, and he does something he’s never done before.  Ben _tries_ to reach out along the bond he has with Maggie, tries to touch her mind instead of trying to seal himself off.  There’s nothing there anymore. 

It should be a relief, right?  Very little in his life has been as humiliating as this connection with Maggie.  But it also means he’s all alone now.

Ben pulls himself together and gets up, trying to find something to distract himself with.  Before he can get far, Cochise comes up to him. 

Cochise frowns at him and then places his fingers under Ben’s chin.  Ben just kind of stares up at him, confused, as Cochise examines him.

“You have taken ill,” Cochise says. 

“I think that Maggie got her spikes out,” Ben explains.  “Well, I know she did, but I don’t want to believe it.”

“Why not?” Cochise asks.

Ben sighs and grabs Cochise’s arm, pulling him somewhere private.  They sit down on his bedroll.  “She didn’t even tell me.  Do you know what it feels like to just suddenly feel part of yourself dying?  Maybe if she had told me, at least the spikes could have gone back in me.” 

Although carrying around parts of Maggie for the rest of his life probably wouldn’t be a good thing. 

“Perhaps she worried you would dissuade her,” Cochise says, resting a hand on his arm.  “You are attached to her and to the spikes.”

“I would try to understand.  I know how awful this is,” Ben says.  He leans against Cochise because he is so tired.  “I feel so alone.”

“I understand,” Cochise says.  “You are the only one of your kind.  I often feel adrift among humans- and I have never been fully comfortable with my own people, as my lack of a kidney set me apart from my comrades.  While no one is like you, and that is isolating, that does not mean that many people do not care for you.  You cannot forget that.”

Ben sighs and nods.  “I just, love her, you know?  I want to be with _her_.” 

“I do not understand how that is relevant,” Cochise says. 

Ben tilts his head to look up at Cochise, frowning.  “She knows, and she still just… threw all of that in the trash.”

“I am not an expert on love,” Cochise says, looking down at him.  There’s always something so serene about Cochise that comforts him.  “But if you truly loved her, would you not be happy for her?  She has regained her sense of self.  She is alive and capable of fighting.  You have become attached to her and used to her presence, and I believe you are confusing that with love.”

Ben thinks hard about it.  Thinks about all the self-loathing she’s felt (which means he’s felt it).  Thinks about how his first thought was about how alone _he_ is now, not about how happy _she_ must be now. Yeah, that’s pretty crappy of him.  That’s not the kind of person he wants to be.

“You’re right,” Ben says in a quiet voice. 

“I should inform you that I am the one who removed Maggie’s spikes for her,” Cochise says. 

“Thank you,” Ben says after a long pause. 

“You are not upset?” Cochise asks.

“I’m upset with me, not with you or her,” Ben says.  “And at the Espheni.  Real mad at them.”

“We are all their victims,” Cochise says.  “Do you need anything?”

“When you see Maggie, can you tell her congrats?  That I’m happy for her?  Because I don’t think she wants to see me, but I still want her to know,” Ben says.  Maybe that’s selfish, too, but he’s not going to go see her himself, so maybe that’s okay.

“I will pass along your regards,” Cochise says.

“Thanks,” Ben says, “and, uh, thank you for talking to me.”

“You are my friend,” Cochise says, “and I wish to support you.”

“You’re a good friend,” Ben says, “to me and to everyone else.”

Cochise leaves, and Ben thinks some more.  He had a crush on Maggie, yeah, but with everything that’s happened, he doesn’t really feel the same way anymore.  He’s used to Maggie and he likes her, but he realizes that he doesn’t actually _love_ her.  Going through hell together doesn’t make a romance.  It doesn’t make love.

It just makes desperation of a particularly pathetic kind, and it’s not fair to Maggie.  He’ll work it out.


End file.
